


Salvation

by lipservice (thescariestadverbs)



Category: The Killing
Genre: F/M, Reflection, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescariestadverbs/pseuds/lipservice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate ending or extended ending to episode 8. A reflective piece from Holder's perspective as he tries to relax from the day's events.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvation

It had been one of those days, one of those days that you don’t see coming, that you aren’t prepared for. It had been a long day, an emotionally draining day. It had been one of those days where you learn something about yourself that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t quite ready for. They’d done their best, sure. And they’d succeeded, more or less, and Linden was safe. 

He hadn’t been prepared for the gut wrenching terror at the sound of her voice. He hadn’t been ready for the bone chilling fear that he still, hours later, couldn’t shake. He’d brought her back into this, he’d taken her from her peaceful, quiet life and he’d dragged her back in and if today had gone any differently... her blood would have been on his hands. He retches at the thought, and for a moment he’s sure he’ll have to pull the car over but the wave passes. 

He tries to swallow down the bitter taste of bile in his throat. 

He thought that he would feel better if he had gone to see her, so he picked up Chinese and went to her house. They talked about the case, she even smiled a few times and he felt better. She was okay. By the time he’d made back to the apartment he had felt raw and on edge again. He’s been driving around for hours just waiting for it to pass.

He lights another cigarette and turns left. He could go home, go to bed. He could lay there and pretend to sleep. He could pretend that every time he closes his eyes he doesn’t see how it could have ended. He could pretend that it doesn’t change anything. The truth is though, it changed everything. The car is low on gas but it doesn’t matter, nothing really feels like it matters anymore. 

He had promised once, in the flourescent light of the hospital, he’d promised he would take care of her. Some job he’s done. He was so caught up in being something more, in proving himself that somewhere along the way he’d forgotten what he had promised. He might has well have been holding the gun himself. 

He had seen a different side of himself today, one that he had buried so deep he’d forgotten it existed. It came out in a flash, in a second, when he grabbed the pastor. It would have been so easy to push him off the pier and make it look like an accident. He’d wanted to. It was a dangerous line to cross and he’d almost done it. 

She’d protected him, even after he held a gun to her head. She saved the pastor. She saved him before too. She’d given him a chance to take care of someone, to help someone. All he ever wanted was to be better, to prove that he was something more than some no good junkie lying on the side of the road and she’d shown him that. She had needed him and no one else really ever had before.

He was so used to people giving up on him, pushing him away, looking down on him and expecting the worst of him. No one had ever needed him before. 

His phone rings again. The display tells him it’s Bullet but he’s not ready to talk to her yet. Sure he’d been angry, he had every right to be. He knew better though, kids like Bullet don’t know how to trust. She’d lied, yes, but she’d only lied because she didn’t believe in him. And he’d just given her one more reason not to. It’s been a long, hard day.

He punches the gas pedal a little harder than he intended to and the car lurches before it picks up speed. He hadn’t realized he where he was driving until he hit the road just outside the city. It’s late, too late, but he goes anyway. Her house is dark, quiet and still when he pulls up. He doesn’t want to wake her, just being close to her calms him down.

He eases the engine off and turns on the light in the car. He grabs the file from his passenger seat and he starts to read. They have to be missing something. There has to something they are missing. He thinks about all the girls, about Bullet, about Linden. About Kallie. All those girls relying on him. 

He has no idea how long he’s been sitting there, it could have been hours, when a tap on the window almost makes him jump out of his skin. It’s Linden, standing outside his car in her running gear. It’s still dark and a glance at the dashboard clock tells him it’s 3:38 in the morning. He rolls down the window and swallows the lump in his throat, “damn, Linden,” he chokes out.

“I thought you were gone,” she says leaning down so she can look in the window, “I didn’t see your car when I left.”

“Why you runnin’ so late?” he changes the subject, avoiding the unasked question. He couldn’t answer it, he has no idea why he’s back. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she stands up and steps away from the door. He turns off the light in the car and follows her lead. She leans against the hood of the car, staring up at the stars. 

He finds himself standing in front of her, watching her silently. The whole day has changed his perspective, it’s like he’s seeing her for the first time. It’s like almost losing her is the one thing that’s opened his eyes. It’s like learning to walk all over again, except not quite. He doesn’t even know where to start. 

And she looks at him, she turns to him, her eyes wide with concern, “are you okay?” she asks him. 

Still, he can’t speak. Every word dies on his tongue when he looks at her. Her face is pink from her run, her hair is messier than usual. He’s never looked at her like this before, never realized how beautiful she is. He’s stepping forward before he realizes it. He grabs her by the shoulders and he leans in.

He expects her to push him off, he’s waiting for her to push him off but she doesn’t. He’s resting his forehead against hers, fighting every urge in his body. He’s stiff and tense, almost vibrating at the contact. She tilts her head up, just enough, and he moves, just right. The world is all sparks and lightning as the rain starts. It comes down fast and hard, soaking through his jacket but he doesn’t notice. All he can think about is how close her lips are to his and how surprised he is that they ended up here. 

“We,” she whispers, “we should go inside.”

They jog for the door in the rain. They barely make it in before the thunder and the lightning crash across the sky. The water is coming down like a sheet, so thick he can’t even see his car as he shuts the door. 

She’s panting when he turns around, watching him intently. She opens her mouth, maybe to ask him a question, maybe to say something important, maybe to make a joke. he has no idea because he’s across the kitchen and grabbing her before she can start. He’s kissing her like he’s never kissed anyone before. 

He’s pulling and pushing and grabbing. Her jacket is lost somewhere as he backs her up against the wall. They haven’t even moved two feet from the door but he’s kissing her like it’s the only thing that’s ever mattered in his life. 

It’s like coming up for air. It’s like opening your eyes to the morning haze. She’s kissing him back intensely, pulling at his hoodie. He pulls away for a second, meeting her eyes, waiting for her to say something. All he can hear is rushing water, all he can feel is her hands under his sweater. 

It’s a choice, he can stop this and go home, before it gets too far. He doesn’t though, he pulls his sweater over his head and it slaps against the floor. His arms are wet, the rain has soaked through his undershirt. HIs skin is cold to the touch but feels like it’s on fire. She traces a finger along the visible part of his tattoo before she looks up at him again. 

He runs his hands up her arms and down her shoulders, feeling every muscle move under her skin, “should get you outta these wet clothes,” he whispers as he slides his fingers along the hem of her shirt. He pulls it over her head and drops it on top of his sweater. He leans in and catches her mouth again.

He never expected her to taste so sweet. He urges the kiss deeper and grabs her hips, pulling her up against the wall. She’s stretched out, standing on the tips of her toes. She’s kissing him hard as she wraps her legs around his waist. She runs her hands through his hair, pulling him closer. 

He breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers. He’s panting heavily, searching for words. She eases off of him and meets his eyes, “you should stay,” she says quietly.

He should go home. He knows he should, but it’s late and his head is foggy. He’s been looking for salvation for so long he never thought he would find it here. The realization dawns on him, that he needs her more than she needs him. She’s the only one who’s ever called him on his past without making it feel like he’s still living it, the only one who’s ever believed in him.


End file.
